"The boy has walked into the trap," said Fitzgerald, thoughtfully, when Robert left him. "He is a fine boy, and seems a thorough little gentleman in spite of the way in which he has been brought up. It is a pity to harm him, but my interests and that scoundrel Hugo's require it." CHAPTER XXV. AT NIAGARA FALLS. Robert and his new employer started the same morning on their western trip. From the first Robert was haunted by the thought that he had seen Fitzgerald somewhere before. The man's features looked familiar to him, but he had no associations, or could recall none, connected with him. Fitzgerald, however, who remembered very well his past connection with the boy, was afraid that he would succeed in remembering him, and grew uneasy when he saw Robert's bright, expressive eyes fixed upon him. "You seem interested in my appearance," he said, dryly. Robert answered quickly: "I beg your pardon, Mr. Fitzgerald, for staring at you. Somehow your features looked familiar to me, and I was trying to think whether I had ever met you before." "Very possibly you may have seen me, for I have been something of a traveller," answered his employer; "but we never knew each other. I should have remembered you." "Very like I may have seen you at some place where we gave an entertainment," said Robert. "I was at Crampton, you know." "I mean longer ago than that. I have a queer feeling as if some time you were connected with me in some way," said Robert, thoughtfully. Fitzgerald was secretly uneasy. If Robert's recollections should become clearer, and he should come to suspect the truth, then good-by to his plans, for the boy would of course be on his guard. His ingenuity came to his aid. "It is more likely," he said, in an apparently indifferent tone, "that I resemble some such person. The fact is," he added with a forced laugh, "I once came near falling a victim to my unfortunate resemblance to a rascal. I was arrested on suspicion of being a forger or something of the sort, because I looked like the real culprit. Of course the truth came out, but not until I had been subjected to some inconvenience." This explanation seemed satisfactory to Robert, who gave up his scrutiny of his employer, convinced that he had been deluded by a fancied or real resemblance. They made a day's stop at Buffalo, and went from there to Niagara Falls, which Robert had never before seen. He naturally derived a rare enjoyment from the sight of the great cataract. He was hurried away from the falls by Fitzgerald in consequence of a conversation which the boy had with a stranger, which grievously alarmed his employer. This is how it happened: Robert and Fitzgerald were on Goat Island. Our hero was looking earnestly at the mighty cataract, and did not observe that a stranger was looking earnestly at him. Fitzgerald had strayed to a little distance, and was not within earshot. Robert was roused from his revery by a tap upon the shoulder.